


Stuff Happens

by Forgotten_Logic



Series: Random Short Stories [10]
Category: Transformers
Genre: ???? - Freeform, Belly Kink, Cuddles, Cuddling, Getting Fired, Golden Age AU, Lol Orion got fired, M/M, Some Fluff, Some angst, Weight Gain, Worry, failing tests, human food for robots, i mean technically that's just how I roll, it's kind of human food... oops, snack food, the stress™, this is has been in the works for legit 3 months, wait does hand holding count as fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 00:32:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10752978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forgotten_Logic/pseuds/Forgotten_Logic
Summary: *bangs head on table* I'm tired and I want to punch a fucking wall. Hi how are youBtw NOTHING IS BETA'ed so this could be completely awful. You've been warned.





	Stuff Happens

**Author's Note:**

> *bangs head on table* I'm tired and I want to punch a fucking wall. Hi how are you 
> 
> Btw NOTHING IS BETA'ed so this could be completely awful. You've been warned.

He usually didn't indulge himself when it came to food, today was not one of those days. Now he lays down on his side, feeling all the extra fuel spin and swirl in his tanks. His hand rubbed at the mesh in hopes of numbing the ache.

He did eat a lot though. Full beyond compare, it's a miracle the contents did not leave him as he heaved himself from the table. Losing his balance and swaying slightly, he was so very full. 

His creators didn't care what he did as long as he didn't make himself sick or get hurt, so they were okay with it. But then again, Ratchet was still upset.

He only just moved back in with his creators, rent was too much for him to handle while being a practicing medical student. Everything was still very expensive. The council and senate passed recently some bills that made everything jump in price. It was scary for those that didn't have the income to help pay for these ridiculous power-hungry-money-grab-schemes. 

Not to mention, earlier in the day he failed an exam. It's an awful feeling when you study weeks ahead of time and you forget half of the information as soon as your optics see the page. That is what drove him to just eat, and probably will be doing it again, as soon as he can walk again. 

The majority of the weight had settled since his first binge, so he shifted to sit up. Ratchet wheezed, the weight knocking the air right out of him as it swayed back and forth. "Geez," was all he managed, going back to massaging the mesh. He shouldn't have had all of those sandwiches. Were they healthy? Yes, however the sheer amount, that would be something else.

Burping small burps, the pressure release helped, and he got up while he still could. Ratchet's belly was heavy and it kind of hurt as it hung over his waist. 

Without half a thought, he walked over to the cabinet and grabbed what his arms could carry: chips, candy, dip, and at least one large bottle of what accounts to Cybertronian soda. He plopped his aft on the chair he sat for his previous indulgence, dropping what he had carried back on the table. 

He started off with the chips, they were the spicy kind. Opening up the bag, Ratchet greedily grabbed a handful and shoved it unceremoniously into his gapping mouth. It's salty-heat burn tasted so good! And the heat warranted the need of the soda, and he cracked it open, a loud hiss escaped it, gulping down maybe 1/5 of the container. Even though he only just begun this snacking effort, he could already feel the pressure in his tanks.

Right now it did not matter. The fullness felt really, really good. He opened the dip, it was orange and had an odd smell. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't what he was anticipating on grabbing, and right now, he'd still eat it. Ratchet grabbed one chip this time and tentatively dipped it in and dunked it. It was sweet, almost sickeningly sweet, but even he had to admit it went well with the spice of the chips. 

He ran a servo over his expanded gut as he took another chip with a heftier scoop of dip. He would come to regret eating all of this, from here and now and from earlier too. But it was a never ending cycle, fail one exam and instead of cramming for the next exam, he'd cram himself with snack food instead.

And what would Orion think of him if he knew? Ratchet would always say he wasn't feeling good enough to hangout and asked to be alone, and Orion did not question it. Though Orion did wonder what happened to Ratchet that would make him want to be alone. Was it something contagious? No, well... maybe. 

The bag was almost gone, the dip, gone. There were little remnants in the corners on the bottom, Ratchet dug in his digit to liberate what was left. Suckling his digits clean, he allowed himself to gently keen, the spiciness was just so good! He was usually silent, but now, with his gut pretty full, he allowed himself the privilege.

Until he heard a knock on the door to his basement dwelling. It could be one of his creators, then it wouldn't be anything serious. But they usually don't knock so...

"Ratch? Your sire said you had a bad day and she told me to knock." Orion, Ratchet thought with happy tingle in his spark and then realization hit like a train. He looked down at his bloated belly, giving it an experimental poke. As if he needed anymore proof that his binge had consequences. 

His processor had to practically reboot from its blissful state. Oh Primus, oh no. What the slag is he gonna do?! He could sit there silently, and let Orion walk back to his creators and say something along the lines of 'he's recharging' or 'he's ignoring me'. And in that situation, one or both of his creators would come with Orion down stairs, to find him in this state. That would be more embarrassing, he thought.

Ratchet couldn't help the feeling of anxiety build so heavy in him. He at first tried to speak but all he got out was a short burst of static. Trying again and while moving as swiftly as a heavy frame could, he swiped all the trash from the table to the trash basket just beside it. 

"C-come in, Orion." He could feel his frame start to shake. And in he came, quiet with only the sound of the door opening and closing. Ratchet stayed in the corner of the kitchen where the table was, out of the line of sight from the door. He heard a small tink but paid it no mind. 

It would not be within moments that Orion would walk out and never want to see him again, he was sure. Oh yeah, berthmate? Fat chance at that happening.

Ratchet was facing away from where Orion was, arms tucked in close to his frame. It's too late to go back now, and oh how he wanted to cry. His entire froze when blunt black servos came around his torso. "Hello," Orion spoke softly, his servos slid back Ratchet's shoulders, gliding down to his own servos. "What happened today?" He said as he placed a kiss on the back of Ratchet's head. 

Ratchet couldn't respond, he was physically incapable. However, Orion did not move, did not falter, guiding his digits over Ratchet's. A seemingly innocent gesture that could hold so many meanings. He tried again, his voice with a static popping through. "A bad day. A bad test."

That was sad, certainly sounded pathetic, but Orion did not seem to pay it any mind. "Do you want to talk about it?" He paused, voice rumbling. "Maybe over dinner?" That he didn't expect. Orion's hands idly stroked his knuckles. When Ratchet didn't answer, he snuggled his head next Ratchet's, now he could see everything. 

His belly gave a painful lurch, Ratchet was terrified of what Orion was going to do next. He hadn't stopped stroking Ratchet's knuckles. "Or we can just hangout? If that would make you feel better." Ratchet swallowed hard, keeping down the first signs that he was terrified enough to the point of vomiting. He forced himself to nod. "I'd like that."

"Okay," he said simply. "What do you want to do? Since you've had dinner already." He didn't say it with scorn or out of mockery, it sounded genuine. Ratchet shook his head a second. "I haven't had dinner..." his voice cracked and he knew Orion wouldn't buy it and his belly certainly couldn't hide the lie. 

And there was another one of Ratchet's fears, Orion poking fun at the weight, but what he didn't expect was for him to shamelessly grope at the protomesh. Ratchet froze, the heat in him rising and the embarrassment peaked and all his fear slammed down on him in rapid succession. 

"Then you've got room?" Orion cooed, stroking the mesh that hug over Ratchet's hips. The heat in Orion's digits traced shamelessly over the soft mesh, ever so gently. It was equally soothing and terrifying, making Ratchet gulp. 

"You can't be serious."  
"What?"

"I'm fat! Why would there be room?" Ratchet tried to wiggle out Orion's hold, he did so with a heavy jiggle. It made him grunt, however Orion did not move away quickly, only calmly placing his servos on the tense shoulders. "I don't know," Orion mumbled. 

He sighed quietly, a flick of embarrassment in his field. "I can go if you don't want me here." Though Ratchet had a thought of saying 'please go so I can wallow in my own self pity' he certainly thought better on it.

"Orion," he turned his head to face the red mech, seeing what seemed a lustful glow to his optics. It almost unsettled him because there wasn't anything good to look at. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Orion didn't answer, servos gently massaged the shoulders. It was the only thing he could do to relax him; Orion didn't think Ratchet would react like this.

Touching Ratchet only made him hotter. His servos momentarily stopped, bitting his lip nervously. "I like ya," he said proudly, though internally he was screaming. "You look great. Beautiful," he added, heat in his own digits danced onto Ratchet. He looked at Orion, optics searching critically over the silver features, finding a growing blush. 

He felt a little lost for words a moment. Orion liked him! Oh the highest of all joys! But, was it all only because of his, uh, weight? That last thought nearly made him vomit. 

Turning fully with some effort, Ratchet looked him dead in his optic. That lusty glow did not leave those lovely optics. "Are you serious?" He asked firstly, Orion eagerly nodded. "Even with all... this?" No vague gestures just grabbing at his own tummy, making it jiggle. Orion laughed, almost nervously. 

"I mean, yeah. There's nothing wrong with ya Ratchet. Only now you're just a little softer," he said delicately. "You're still the same mech I know, no matter how your frame changes." He really wanted to grab him, hold him. Could he lift him? Part of him just wanted Ratchet to just be close to him. But even now, there was fear that laced his field – something that Orion failed to hide – and Ratchet felt it too. 

"I've always really liked you..." his voice soft. Ratchet found himself smiling, Orion really did like him! He tentatively reached for black hands, stroking over his knuckles. 

Orion for most likely the first time that Ratchet had seen, looked nervous, unlike the usual enforcer. Ratchet went to speak but what came out was squeaked. "Me too," he said after he tried again. "I mean, I like you too." He blushed, fumbling with Orion's digits, looking away. He squeezed the nervous hands, pulling them to his mouth and placing just against him lips, earning Ratchet's attention. 

"You know," Orion started softly. "This makes me really happy." He beamed. Ratchet smiled, the biggest he's given to Orion ever. He felt ready to jump up and squeal! Instead, he pulled Orion into a loving embrace, flush against him and his still inflated belly. He winced with the warm body against him but tried to ignore the pressure. Orion was hugging him! It's the best to happen since cubed Energon!

"Thank you."  
"For what?"  
"For not poking fun."

Orion hugged a little tighter, he gently placed a kiss to still warm cheeks. "I'd never!" 

"You're perfect, just as you are," Orion whispered, tucking his head into the crook of Ratchet's neck. His breath tickled as he continued to nuzzle the rotund orange mech. The tense frame finally relaxed against the red mech, much to Orion's relief. Slowly they parted. The pressure on Ratchet's belly lessened, mindlessly rubbing where Orion had pressed into.

The light cyan optics eyed this hand. "Not feeling good?" Genuinely concerned. If he was then he would go and get one of his creators, they'd know what to do. He wasn't a medic in the slightest and he had every right to worry.

Ratchet looked up, locking optics, oh Orion's are pretty. So clear. So precise. He ogled a moment before shaking his head, recollecting himself again. And replied "It's not that I feel bad. I just feel... full." He gently pushed into his gut for emphasis. It was taut and if he had pushed any harder, it'd hurt him. 

Orion tentatively reached for the belly but froze, another kind of heat rose in his face. "May I... uh..-"

"That didn't stop you a klik ago." Ratchet smirked though he did find the sudden calm, consent seeking actions from Orion absolutely adorable. "Go ahead," he did not hold in a gentle laugh. If he had gone any harder he may have upset his tanks with the extra motion. Orion slowly reached for the tender bulb, upon the first touch Ratchet flinched. He pulled back. "Did I hur-"

"Your hands are cold," Ratchet interrupted with a laugh, a hand going to his mouth in a fleeting attempt to hide his blushed cheeks. Orion curtly nodded, only now before putting his hands back on the belly he puffed warm air onto them. Reaffirming touch, gentle ministrations over the stretched seams, Ratchet melted in his seat. 

"You're soft," murmured Orion, lightly squeezed a roll at his hips. Ratchet tried to stifle his groan, it felt so nice. Being gently held, being caressed by his crush, his best friend was the best feeling he's had! Orion playfully smacked his side, causing his chassis to bounce and jiggle. Ratchet gave a look of mocked hurt, widening his optics and bitting his lip.

"Is this happens when you're upset?" Orion turned his optics to Ratchet, his spark twisted with remorse upon seeing actual hurt on his face. He stumbled on words, apologizing so rapidly he had to bite his glossa to shut himself up.

Ratchet for another moment, felt his tanks lurch. Now he felt absolutely terrible, and fat. His embarrassment heated his frame, Orion pulled back. "That didn't come out right at all," he grumbled, optics not meeting. 

"Well,"—gulp—"now you know my secret..." Ratchet sighed. "Yeah, it's exactly what happens. Every time. Now you know," rueful, he crossed his arms across his torso. 

"Ratchet, I didn't mean for it come out like that!" 

"No, no. Just, stop. I get it, this is weird." He again readjusted his full frame, a nervous twitch flaring in his field. This was exactly what he didn't want to happen! His frame heated, and every ounce of embarrassment came crashing down onto him. 

"Ratchet, I didn't mean it like that! Please," uncharacteristically his voice crack. "Let's just hang out." Ratchet, even he wanted this curve in conversation to go elsewhere. It wasn't any good and anything that made him feel sick could stand to be avoided. Like that one professor...

"Yeah, that's a good idea." He at first tried to slide his frame off the chair, and made near zero progress. Part of him just wanted to ask Orion to just pull him but another wanted to see if he was still physically able to get off alone. The latter would have to wait as Orion reached out a hand, noticing the distress. When weighted pedes hit the floor, he could feel all the access fuel gurgle and bubble. He didn't try to hide that there was too much in him. And the face he made quickly worried Orion, his hold never left, which made Ratchet feel a little better on that front.

Where his full belly hung out over his hips and front hurt, gravity not being kind to the soft mesh being pressed down onto a solid mass of his hip and modesty plating. Orion kept close, gently leading him over. Even now, Ratchet was still surprised he wasn't at the end of an onslaught of rude or snide comments. But Orion wasn't like that, right? He's never been rude to him, or anyone, Ratchet thought. 

When he landed on the couch, it allowed all the motion in his tanks to settle. Orion sat close by, very close. Intimately close to him, he could the heat from his fans go against his frame. Was he making Orion hot? It would explain the lusty glow a minute ago. He didn't want to believe it! But could it be true?

"So," Ratchet started slowly. "What brought you to my little corner of hell?" It was a joke, but the silence was killing him. Orion's optics cycled closed a moment before he completely leaned back into the sofa, turning gently to look at him. "I had a slag day too, but I knew I could come over and hang out and just think here – with you." Orion searched Ratchet's face, waiting a moment before continuing. "I just feel really safe around you."

"I make you feel safe?" He didn't hold back a smile. "Well, yeah."

"What happened? If I may ask. Or is it too embarrassing?" Ratchet looked into those blue optics, how they turned away, focused elsewhere. It made his spark ache. Orion cleared his vocalizer, optics focused still away. Ratchet watched with curiosity, waiting. "Ah well, uh... it's actually quite embarrassing," he said firstly. Without thinking, Ratchet grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "You know, you don't have to tell me."

"You deserve to know, though!" He still held Orion's hand, patiently stroking over black knuckles. "I... my works been redirected," it came out a squeak, much to his own disappointment. Ratchet just sat up, readjusting himself as to look directly at the red and silver mech. "So.. fired? Why? You've always done exactly what was asked of you." It was the truth. Never had Orion did even the bare minimum for anything or anyone, a prime example of a honorable worker. 

He didn't really want to answer. "Well, not always. I... over did a data analysis and downloaded too many pdfs from Prowl. And I crash." Ratchet's mouth hung open slightly. "They said that it was a hazard and I shouldn't be an Enforcer if I couldn't handle downloading so many files," he added softly.

"You're not special ops! You were not built for major data downloads, certainly not in rapid succession."

"You're right; I'm not. But that didn't stop me from... trying." With a shrug, he squeezed Ratchet's own hand, who hadn't noticed that he still had it in his hold. Neither minded. "Orion."

"I know. I know. It was dumb," he sighed. "I still technically have one deca cycle before I'm completely junked." Orion slumped into the softness of the couch, almost hoping that all the plush would open up and swallow him and his troubles up whole. Ratchet was never one to be wholly optimistic, but right now, his dear friend really needed some optimism. "A deca cycle is enough time to find another job," he started softly. The red and silver mech's face was distraught, like now he was letting his troubles finally show.

"This will one will be on my permanent record. Who'd want someone who crashed their system because they ODed a simple data transfer?" His field poked at Orion's, trying to be soothing, add some sort of reassurance. And then it hit like shuttle. "Why not ask your grandsire? Even he wouldn't turn down family, regardless of your record." He leaned into him, his tummy being a little bit of a hindrance, but gave him a awkward couch hug. "Come on. It'll all work itself out." 

As much as he hoped that, even Ratchet wasn't completely sure. All he could tell himself was: who really was wholly prepared for everything the world had to though at everyone? No one could be wholly prepared. 

"You're right," he started simply. "I should go and ask him." He sighed but pulled Ratchet closer, intentionally squishing him. "Thank you, Ratchet." He smiled, though with a Orion holding him tightly and his gut still full, it wasn't as comfortable as he would've hoped. "Anytime," he grunted. Thankfully, Orion loosened his grip on Ratchet, hesitantly letting him go.

"Hey, it's just me askin' but do you wanna stay the night?" Asked as he let himself be weighted down and sink into the couch, still feeling all the extra fuel swirl in his tanks. 

Orion looked at him with whimsy, a surprised flick in his field tickled at Ratchet's. Could he be serious? Ratchet even though he could be quite the jokester, when it came to something serious he never joked. "I'd hate to impose." Optics innocently tracing the orange and silver frame and the still firm middle.

"It's not any imposition! But if you need to go back to your apartment, I get it." Orion smiled. "Thanks. But, are you sure your creators won't mind?" Ratchet scoffed. "If it were anyone else they would mind. They like you." Truth be told, his creators assumed that they were courting just based on how they acted around each other. They argued like anyone else would but never really stayed angry at each other long. And, they teased each other which indeed could be construed as flirting. 

Orion laid his head on Ratchet's shoulder, optics seemed to dim. He sighed a soft "okay" as he squeezed Ratchet's hand. They hadn't let go, to wit, was a lovely statement to the pair. 

"Are you tired?" Ratchet asked out of no where, Orion only sighed. He nodded and snuggled further into the chubby mech. Their legs flush against each other, emanating heat. "You're warm," he murmured as he rested his other hand on the belly and his head resting in the crook of the young medic's neck. Ratchet knew why he was running hotter, it was all the junk he'd ingested. 

But right now, with Orion with him—against him— he felt absolutely wonderful. And he never wanted this feeling to end, with luck, it wouldn't. They just sat there until Orion fell into recharge. The engines gently turned over now and then, relaxing Ratchet even further, to which lulled him to recharge as well. It couldn't have been a better end of the cycle for them.

**Author's Note:**

> How was this???


End file.
